point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over
by patientalien
Summary: The war is changing both Anakin and Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan is forced to consider what that means for their relationship.


Written for citizenjess. Title from "Schism" by Tool.

* * *

The war rages on and there isn't time to mourn the lost. They're sent back out into the field mere days after Ahsoka has said her brief goodbyes, but it's for the best, Anakin thinks. Out in the field, he can forget. Out in the field, he can pour his feelings - pesky, tedious things - into the fight. Besides, he's got Obi-Wan by his side again.

It's not the same, though. Everything feels off-kilter, unbalanced, from Obi-Wan's uncharacteristic silence - fewer snide remarks about fine messes and more downcast expressions - to his own pulsing anger. He's not sure what to do about it, so he destroys 'droids with more violence than is strictly necessary and crashes hard at the end of the battles so he doesn't have to think about anything else.

He's best like this, commanding his troops with nothing else in his head besides strategy and tactics. But there's more, so much more, in his head swirling around and threatening to choke him in the miasma of uncontrollable emotion. Fear, that sick sense of dread that wells up and warns of impending doom, nearly cripples him each time he stops moving for too long.

So he tries not to stop moving, not even for a moment, in the most literal sense of the phrase. He knows he's exhausting Obi-Wan, frustrating the older man, but he can't consider stopping - not yet - not until the War is over. He doesn't want to burden Obi-Wan with the reasoning either, better he say 'I just want the War to be over, Master', than 'I'm afraid of what I'm going to do'.

He's exhausted, dreadfully so, but the exhaustion gives him something to fight against, something to focus on besides the aching fear that sits in his chest making it hard to breathe. He has Obi-Wan to focus on too, and that helps, pouring his energy and attention towards someone else. "Stop clinging," Obi-Wan requests, but Anakin persists, sticking close to his former Master, talking to avoid silence - because if there's silence, he starts thinking, and he doesn't want to start thinking.

"I've been thinking." Well, not about anything besides the battle, anyway.

"Should I be worried?" Obi-Wan's tone is flatter than normal, the playful 'I'm just teasing' glint in his eye that's usually there missing. His former Master folds his cloak neatly, compulsively so, and sets it just-there, just perfectly arranged, on his cot.

Anakin huffs out his annoyance. "I want to take a squadron around the planet," he explains, "sneak up on the Seppies from behind. Haven't tried that before, I think it might work." They wouldn't expect it, it's too simple, too obvious, but the cloud cover here would make the ideal testing ground for the theory and the clankers would never see him coming, not since he's modified half of Shadow Squadron to run virtually silent at sub-light speeds.

He can tell by Obi-Wan's expression that the older man doesn't think it's a good idea. He's used to that, now. He knows Obi-Wan will cave in the end, and even if he doesn't, Anakin already knows he's going to go through with his plan anyway, regardless of what Obi-Wan thinks. "Don't be ridiculous," Obi-Wan scolds and Anakin bristles. "They'll see you coming on their scanners from halfway across the planet and you won't stand a chance. They'll have plenty of time to scramble fighters and meet you."

"It will work, Master," Anakin insists, the old honorific tripping so easily from his lips. "I know it will!" It has to work, because he's running out of ideas and this planet is running out of resources.

Obi-Wan's hands splay across his folded cloak and he straightens, turning, one hand rising to stroke his beard. "You'll get yourself killed." It's said so simply, and it flares something inside of him.

"Good! I hope I do!" Anakin thunders out before he can stop himself and then takes a step back, mechanical hand flying to his mouth as if the gesture will take back the words.

Obi-Wan looks as though he's been slapped. "Anakin!" He steps forward, hand raised in supplication, but Anakin whirls away from him, angry tears stinging his eyes.

"Don't," he snarls. "Don't start." He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to give weight to the horrible admission he's just thrown into the space between them. "I'm going to go prepare the men." He storms out and hears Obi-Wan's feeble 'Anakin, no!' echoing behind him.

There's nothing he can do to stop the inevitable. Anakin has become even more unpredictable than he ever has been before, and Obi-Wan knows that to fight him on anything now would be fruitless. Still, Anakin's words echo in his head and if he thought he was going to get anything out of the conversation, he would have pushed the matter.

The truth of it is that he's not sure he knows Anakin anymore. The outburst had been a shock, at the very least, and Obi-Wan's not sure if Anakin meant it or not, but either way they were not words he'd ever expected to hear from his friend. It's the damnable War, he thinks, unfolding and refolding his cloak repeatedly, impotently. Sapping the humanity from all of them, making even the best of them little more than walking corpses. Even Master Yoda has been affected, the Dark Side growing stronger and more suffocating day by day.

It's not in Obi-Wan's nature to give up, but the War has sapped him even of his ability to see a way out of the conflict. Each hour that passes convinces him further that the only way he'll see the end of the War is through his death, that the only way the Sith's corrupt influence on the rest of the galaxy will end is through some catastrophic act. This is not a War they can win through singular battles, nor through brute strength. Anakin seems to think it is; he seems to think everything will be perfect if he could just get to Dooku, get to Grievous, get to Sidious.

Obi-Wan knows better. Too much has been lost already, too many people have been lost to the conflict, even those who haven't actually died. Even when the War ends, there will be pain. There will be suffering. It's a fact Anakin seems blind to, and Obi-Wan can barely bring himself to talk to the younger man anymore because he just doesn't understand, and doesn't want to listen to anything Obi-Wan has to say. He's not even entirely certain that Anakin considers what will happen when the War ends at all.

After the fourth or fifth repetition of the jerky folding movements, he has gathered himself enough to deal with Anakin's plan. It's foolhardy. It's reckless, and bound to fail. It's an act of desperation from a man who wants above all to consider himself the victor. Obi-Wan thumbs on his commlink and after a brief moment, the small holographic form of Captain Rex appears. "I need you to stall General Skywalker," he instructs, because even if Anakin doesn't want to listen, and even if Obi-Wan doesn't have the energy to make him listen, he needs to do something - it's what he always does, after all, pushing aside his own thoughts, his own needs, to support others. It's the Jedi way. It's the only way.

Rex gives him an affirmative, and Obi-Wan unfolds his cloak for the last time, wrapping it around himself and heading out into the cold afternoon air.

"I'm telling you, the fighters aren't ready, Sir," Obi-Wan hears Rex say as he reaches the staging area. The Force is roiling with frustration, and Obi-Wan shields himself both physically with his cloak and mentally within the bond as he approaches.

"And I'm telling YOU that they should have been prepped by now!" Anakin is insisting, vehement and furious, his expectations as usual far higher than reality will allow. It's good, this time, Obi-Wan thinks, because it means he hasn't simply rolled over Rex's attempts to stall, it means he's truly grounded until Obi-Wan can take the opportunity to try and talk some sense into him.

The prospect is exhausting. He's spent twelve long years trying to talk sense into his young protege, and despite the strides Anakin has made in maturing since being Knighted, the War, this blasted War, is ruining everything and Obi-Wan isn't sure how much longer he can go on trying to hold everything together.

It's not about the prophecy. It's not about giving Anakin the chance to fulfill some uncertain destiny. It's about giving all he has, and then some, to keep his promise. That promise, which has caused so much resentment and frustration and joy and pride. That promise which ensured he would always stand in the shadow of Anakin's greatness, would always be also-ran to Anakin's headliner act. Insignificant, besides what he means to Anakin.

"You're dismissed, Captain," he tells Rex softly, pitching his voice low. "I can handle it from here." Rex salutes crisply and walks away, obviously relieved at the intervention, though his face betrays no such feeling.

Anakin spins around to face him. "I told you I didn't want to talk about it," he spits. "Go away!" He turns away again, stalking down the rows of fighters, inspecting without seeing, blind to everything but his own emotions. As usual.

"And then what?" Obi-Wan asks, flatly, wrapping his arms around himself within the sleeves of his cloak. "Your squadron isn't ready to fly, you heard Rex." Whether Rex was telling the truth or merely following Obi-Wan's orders is unclear, but it hardly matters. "Are you really just going to stomp around here pouting until they're ready?" He doesn't expect anything different, really, because that's Anakin. If he wants something, he'll pursue it with a single-minded determination that discounts the opinions or feelings of anyone around him.

Anakin's at his own Eta-2 Actis fighter, Artoo Detoo already plugged into the dorsal socket. The fighter is brand-new, to replace the one he'd lost on Cato Neimodia, on his last mission as Ahsoka's Master, and Obi-Wan knows the young man hasn't had a chance to tinker with it as much as he'd like. In fact, he's not entirely certain Anakin's even been in the cockpit of the new craft yet. This is hardly the kind of mission that would lend itself to experimentation with an unfamiliar ship, not that Anakin seems to care. "Artoo's already prepped mine," he says in confirmation of Obi-Wan's suspicion. "I can do it alone."

Anger flares and Obi-Wan tamps it down. If he is meant to discourage strong emotion in Anakin, he can't be feeling any of his own. "And if you do get yourself killed?" he asks, not sure he wants to hear the answer, but having to ask the question anyway.

Anakin shrugs, waving his hand to raise the cockpit canopy bubble. "Who cares?" he replies, blithely, as if it's not the worst response he could possibly have to the question. As if it's not a response that makes Obi-Wan feel as though he's been punched in the gut, revolted by his own revulsion in that moment as he stares at the young man he's guided and raised and lived with for over a decade as though he's never seen him before.

"Are you serious?" he manages to ask. "Why would you even say that?" But he knows why - he can sense it through their bond. He's felt it himself, these past few months. A helplessness, a hopelessness. Nothing will change, or get better, and their lives - or deaths - make little difference. "Anakin, stop and think." He won't tell Anakin what lies in the darkest corners of his heart, because he's not sure Anakin could handle that knowledge. Better to pretend it's not there.

Anakin's anger is a living thing and he spins around to face Obi-Wan. "I'm tired of doing things everyone else's way!" he exclaims, slamming his hand against the wing of his fighter for emphasis.

Obi-Wan scoffs out his disbelief. "When have you EVER done things anyone's way but your own?" he demands, advancing a few slight steps towards the younger man. "You're not a victim, Anakin, much as you seem inclined to believe otherwise." He won't raise his voice to match Anakin's, he tells himself. He won't lash out, because he is BETTER than that. What he does instead is add, "You're not the only one this War is hurting."

"Sure could have kriffing fooled me," Anakin snaps. "Sorry I'm not better at not having feelings, my Master." He doesn't sound sorry, but he never really does.

Obi-Wan grips his elbows within the sleeves of his robe tightly enough that he's fairly certain he'll have bruises. "I'm ordering you not to go," he says finally, after a long moment.

"You don't outrank me anymore!" Anakin bellows, but Obi-Wan withdraws a hand from his robe and holds it up.

"As a member of the High Council, I most certainly do," he replies and it's a low blow, but one Anakin surely has to realize comes out a desire to keep him safe. "And on behalf of the Council, I am forbidding this." 'Please listen,' he begs silently, taking another step forward.

Anakin is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes wide with the shock of betrayal. "You can't stop me," he warns, and flips himself into his fighter. The cockpit canopy lowers as the fighter rises from the hardstand, and Obi-Wan is left to strike his fist against the side before Anakin streaks off into the clouds.

It's righteous anger, which means it isn't dangerous. It's anger rooted in inequity and betrayal and that gives him strength. It doesn't matter what Obi-Wan says, that he's on the Council - they are still equals now, and Anakin can make his own decisions.

He pushes aside the obvious questions - why did he say what he said, why is he even going through with this plan when even he knows it's bound for failure? It doesn't matter, he decides, why he says or does anything because in the end it won't win the War. For nearly three long years he's been trying, giving his flesh and blood to the Republic cause, and it's never enough. It will never be enough, not for the Council, and not for the Republic, and not for himself.

His fighter breaks through the atmosphere with a shuddering jolt, and Anakin frowns slightly, ordering Artoo to run a diagnostic as he flips around to head around the planet. Stupid fighter, they didn't even give him enough time to break her in before shipping them out again. The craft shudders again and then begins spinning lazily end over end as the sublight engines fail, first one, then the other. "You've GOT to be kidding me!" Anakin exclaims, pounding his fist against the console in front of him.

-All systems down- Artoo informs him. -Diverting all power to life support- There's a series of sparks within the cockpit and Anakin winces as a few hit his face. -Life support down- Grimacing, Anakin tugs his manual oxygen mask over his face. -No power. No oxygen- Artoo corrects just as Anakin realizes there's no air flow through the mask.

He sits back and stares out the cockpit canopy at the stars - and then the planet - and then the stars again as the fighter lazily spins out into oblivion.

Obi-Wan watches Anakin's fighter until it's no more than a dark speck on the horizon. Then he turns, walking away from the staging area, back to his own makeshift quarters, shaking his head as he goes.

He should have known Anakin wouldn't back down. He should have seen that coming, should have known better than to throw his position on the Council up like that. That he was desperate to keep Anakin grounded, to get Anakin talking, is his immediate explanation but the truth is he wanted to pull rank. He wanted to make Anakin obey, just once, make him understand that he's not alone in how he's feeling.

It's hardly a fair thought; he wouldn't wish his feelings on anyone, but Anakin, for all his selfless compassion in some areas, is woefully out of tune with the feelings of those closest to him, and Obi-Wan half thinks Anakin's outburst was simply an effort at being melodramatic.

Still, there was a distinct TRUTH to it in the Force, and that still has Obi-Wan's hackles raised. It would be so easy to allow himself to die in battle, and he can't image Anakin hasn't thought the same thing. He doesn't, though - for the Republic and his commitment to the Jedi, but mostly for Anakin. He's seen what happens when Anakin experiences a loss he isn't prepared for, and the fallout would be catastrophic. He couldn't do that to his best friend, even if his best friend is ridiculously insensitive at times.

He's still angry, though, at the casual disregard Anakin had for the impact his words made, and then for his abject disobedience in the face of a direct order, and that anger is stewing and threatening to overflow as Captain Rex runs up to him. "General Kenobi," he says, clipped and somewhat breathless -he must have run all the way from the staging area.

"What is it?" he asks, trying to soften his tone. It's not Rex's fault.

Rex straightens. "We received a distress call," he explains, and Obi-Wan feels a ripple of warning in the Force.

"From Anakin?" he presumes. Of course the plan didn't work, of course Anakin's calling for help, to be bailed out and rescued from yet another cockeyed scheme that Obi-Wan had WARNED him wouldn't work.

Shifting his weight, Rex shakes his head. "From the astromech, Sir," he replies. "We haven't been able to make contact with General Skywalker, but Artoo says he's still alive. Just not answering."

Obi-Wan's heart thuds painfully in his chest. "Thank you, Captain," he hears himself say, moving further into his quarters, closing the door before Rex can ask for instructions on how to proceed. He feels... numb, except for that horrible pounding of his heart. Anakin's not answering his men. Anakin wouldn't send his own distress call. Anakin is capable of doing both, but didn't. It's easy enough to figure out what the young man expects - and perhaps desires - the outcome to be.

And Obi-Wan almost leaves him to it. This is what he wanted, this is what they'd fought over. If he can't be bothered to keep living, Obi-Wan can't be bothered making him. The thought passes quickly, but Obi-Wan immediately feels an aching misery for having it at all. He thumbs on his commlink, not expecting a different result than what Rex had gotten, but wanting to try anyway. "Anakin."

It takes two tries, but then the commlink flickers to life and the image of Anakin appears. He's sweating, and seems to be breathing tightly, but is definitely still very much alive. "Master," he says softly. "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Anakin, what happened?" he asks. He needs to know how much time they have, what happened, so he can make a plan. He needs to know if Anakin even wants to be rescued.

"It couldn't take the jump out of atmo," Anakin scoffs. "Power died. Engines. Life support." Obi-Wan assumes the communication system is being re-routed through Artoo Detoo's internal comm channel. Anakin's chest heaves. "Not sure how much oxygen I've got left," he admits, and gasps again. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I... was wrong. I know that you... aren't emotionless. I know... I was unfair... I just want you to know that I'm... I'm sorry."

He's not apologizing for his plan, not claiming himself wrong because of his fighter's malfunction. He's admitting cognizance of Obi-Wan's pain, and even that is cause for alarm because Anakin never admits when he is wrong, which means he knows how dire his situation is. "Anakin, this War is changing all of us," Obi-Wan ventures, quickly, carefully. "I don't know when it will end, but I do know when it does end..." He clears his throat; for all his reknown as The Negotiator, he seems wildly ill prepared for this eventuality. "When it does end, I want us both to be there to see it."

Anakin blinks at him slowly. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "Tell Padme..." But Obi-Wan doesn't hear him, because he's running back the way Rex came, shouting to scramble a shuttle and to get a lock on Anakin's coordinates. He won't make Anakin face life without him, and he won't allow himself to face life without Anakin. He'll rescue his brother now, and always.


End file.
